


The World is Falling, and so am I

by FreakyVintageWallpapers



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pete's point of view, Slurs, Suicide Attempt, heavily inspired by The Last of Us, nothing they havent said in game though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakyVintageWallpapers/pseuds/FreakyVintageWallpapers
Summary: Months of the zombie apocalypse have passed. Months of hiding from infected, killing, and trying their best not to hurt each other and now that can all end. They found the cure to the infected's bite. It's Gary.
Relationships: Peter "Petey" Kowalski/Gary Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old work I wrote back in 2014/2015, and I wanted to rewrite it! I dont have a beta reader so some old mistakes might have still slipped through, but I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Gary kicked upon the door, the wood splintering on the impact. He shouldered off the brown sack tied across his torso, and stopped to pull out a plastic bag from inside that was covered in blood. Pete trailed in behind him, a plastic bag in one hand, his gun in the other. Pete trailed in behind him, holding a bloodied brown sack.

"How many rabbits?" Pete asked. The bag felt heavier than usual, way too heavy to be just a rabbit. The medium-sized bag was soaked through with blood, coating Pete's hand. It should have made him dizzy and sick to see the red, sticky liquid layered and crusted on his hands, but he'd seen too much blood for it to bother him anymore.

"Not a rabbit, but it's still dinner. Skin it, cook it. I got something else I need to grab so don't lock up until I get back." Gary walked out of the old abandoned house they were using as cover.

The windows were boarded up by Gary, and Pete had made a system where if any of the windows or doors were opened a trail of tin cans would rattle and make noise to alert the boys.

It was a great idea, but took too long to string up after every time they opened the door. Instead, whenever they left, they barricaded the front door with a car door they found in a wreckage not too far from the house. They only set up the lock system when they slept, or rather when Pete slept. Gary seemed to always be awake. A result from the lack of his medication.

Pete sat the blood stained bag on the floor, hesitating before opening it.

Pete gagged, tears filling his eyes. He shook his head, fighting the urge to puke and looked back into the bag. Inside was a baby deer with its head smashed in. Brain and bone covered the poor things face and Pete could only assume what Gary had done to it. Blood was still trickling from the smashed.

He couldn't let this get to him. Not after all they had been through. He prepared the deer just as Gary had taught him to do, the task taking most of his attention. Occasionally he'd glance out the window to check to see if Gary was coming or if something else was coming. He shuddered. He didn't want a repeat of the last time he didn't keep a constant check on the windows.  
It was Lola. It was that moron greaser's girlfriend who had somehow managed to sneak up on Pete and Gary in the house through the crawl space. It had only been a couple of weeks after the infection broke out and people were at each other throats. Literally. 

Bullworth quickly became every man for himself and only the smart stuck together and formed groups. Pete and Gary hid together in the abandoned house just blocks away from Petey’s childhood home. Gary was cooking dinner, a mixture of beans and cut up hotdogs, while Pete was supposed to watch the window to make sure none of the infected got in.

Pete was pretty good at keeping watch, but his attention had been fading that night. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep since the infection broke out, and they had yet to see an actual threat approach their hideout. He was exhausted and found himself in and out of sleep. 

It was nearing sun down, yet Lola had seen them from afar, and army crawled her way under the house, and popped up the loose flooring.

She had slowly crept open the door, Gary didn't notice her and Pete had his back to her. She crept up next to him, then swiftly wrapped her arm around his neck and held him at gunpoint. Her hair was a mess, three bite marks covered her left arm, and both boys instantly knew she was infected. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her clothes torn and tattered. Gary had his own gun pointed at her in a blink of an eye, but his narrowed gaze wasn’t at the crazed greaser. His stare was burning into Pete. 

Gary had a fierce look, and Pete could see the anger. Not at Lola but at his friend. Why hadn't Pete warned him about the broken greaser?

Pete gulped, if Lola didn't kill him, Gary would have his head.

"Go ahead!" She sobbed. "Pull the trigger and he dies. Why do you get to be happy and I don't? My Johnny's turned on me and you here with your,” She grunted in frustration, the infection waging in her body, ”Your boyfriend!" She sobbed, and gripped Pete tighter.

Gary lowered his gun and smirked, his eyes distant as if the dreadful scene wasn’t playing out in front of him.

"I won't even waste the bullet. Go ahead, shoot him. Less mouths to feed." Gary sat back down near the fireplace and stirred the pot, no longer paying attention to the two behind him. Lola was taken back by the taller boy's sudden lack of interest in the situation. She couldn't figure out why he just suddenly didn't care anymore. Nobody cared about her, whether she'd been loving them or trying to hurt them. 

"Gary!" Pete hissed, it was getting harder to breathe. Pete couldn’t even begin to grasp his friend's reaction to his life being in the hands of this heart-broken greaser.

Lola let out a broken sob, which sounded more like a wounded animal to Pete. She slowly lifted up the gun from Pete's head and placed it against the soft flesh of her temple.

"It just ain't worth it anymore." She whispered. The sound of the gun would haunt Pete’s dreams. The way it made his head pound and his ears go numb. Lola fell backwards, her head hitting the window sill behind them. Pete stood stock still, his heavy breath being the only sound in the room. 

"Ho-How did you know she was going to shoot herself?" Pete asked. His voice was so soft he almost couldn’t hear himself.

The tension in the air was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. 

Gary turned to Pete, no expression clear on his face.

"I didn't."

Pete shook his head and focused on the deer he’d cooking, trying to draw himself out of the painful memory. There really was no use in dwelling in the past. 

A few of the infected wandered outside on the street, with the slowly falling sun behind them. They only really became active in the night which made Pete become worried. Where was Gary at? He should have been here by now.

The sun was almost down. Pete battled with his thoughts, which became more erratic with every passing minute. Gary was dead. Gary was alive and trapped. Gary was waiting for Pete. Gary needed Pete and he was doing nothing. He wasn’t coming. Gary wasn’t coming. Gary was dead. Gary was alive. He has to be.

When the last rays of sunlight were gone, Pete realised no one was coming. It had been hours since Gary had left Pete with the deer. What else could he do? What would Gary do?

At that one simple thought, Pete drug himself form the overcooked meat and hauled himself to each empty room. Pete shut the windows, locking them, and securing their lock system. A pang of guilt struck after he secured the last window. How could he have given up on Gary so easily? He would wait longer! When the moon rose high enough that the light replaced the dying embers of the fire, Pete sighed.

After staring out the window waiting for what felt like forever , he stretched and left to the small mattress pushed against the corner.

The two shared a bed, it gave them more room and provided warmth as the months drew cold. A few blankets and two pillows covered the dirty mattress, Pete would sleep against the wall and Gary would sit on the edge of the mattress, mumbling to himself.

Though tonight, he didn’t think he’d find much sleep. He still hadn't given up hope on Gary. Maybe he was stuck and was waiting for the smaller male to help him. Maybe he was bitten, infected, and wandering the streets just like the monsters outside. Pete felt his chest tighten as the thoughts forced their way into his spinning mind. Tears stung his eyes when he realized he was alone. 

He tried to push the thoughts aside. He really did. But everytime he closed his eyes, Gary was there in some dire situation.

Once the school counselor told him he didn’t have anxiety. Which now made Pete want to laugh in the man’s face. The elderly man had looked Pete dead in his eyes and had said, Pete was his own worst enemy. That he was conjuring up these bad thoughts on his own. That he was responsible for his own fears. If Pete would simply think of nice things, then his worries would all go away. 

Pete didn’t have his medication, he didn’t have his sweet therapist who gave him candies on his way out the door, he didn’t have an elderly man to tell him he was wrong. He had tried everything, so he could at least give this a shot. 

He thought about the time Gary saved his life.


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete thinks about the time Gary saved his life

The sun was going down.

The cracked window was open letting in the crisp autumn air as Pete sat on his bed. He could feel the cool wind brushing across his face as he exhaled slowly. Most of the students were in town or watching the football game or enjoying the carnival for what little time it would be open, so there was almost no noise in the dorm. The dull sound of the TV that no one ever bothered to shut off, was the only thing he could hear. The orange light from the sunset leaked in through the window and soaked into the room. Everything seemed to be at peace.

Not for long though. Pete looked down at the gun in his hand, and smiled sadly. The empty box in his father’s study had still gone undiscovered by his parents. Part of him wished they had found it the moment he took it, but as always they were too busy and not bothered at all by their strange son. He knew he had acted shady the last time he was at his parent’s house. He had a gun in his bag, how could he not be? But they didn’t notice. Pete didn’t think anyone would. 

He wondered how happy Gary would be to find him dead, On the bed, blood staining the sheets. Or maybe one of the jocks or a nerd would find him when they heard the gunshot. Their screams would make Gary smile, they always did. He almost wished he would see Gary's reaction when he found out he was dead. He was sure Gary would be happy to get rid of him. After all, he was the one telling Pete to go kill himself in the first place.

It wasn't just Gary that made him get to this point. He’d argue that Jimmy played a bigger role. Once Jimmy became the king again he left Pete to be head boy by himself. Pete tried to hang out with Jimmy, but the taller boy would yell at him, accuse him of being a 'faggot' in front of everyone. It had come outta nowhere. Those around them looked at Jimmy as if he had grown two heads when he lashed out at the boy. 

Even Zoe was confused. 

Needless to say, they didn’t talk after that.

Jimmy became the bully he swore he never was. If even the one person, who he thought cared about him, thought he was a no good faggot then that meant every one hated him too right?

When Gary finally came back from Happy Volts after the summer was over, he thought things would be different. He thought things would take a turn for the better. Gary would be his friend again, they would be roommates! Gary had sent him a text asking for permission to room together, that had to be a great sign he wanted to make amends. But look at how things turned out. All alone in his bedroom with a gun pressed to his temple. 

Pete let out another shaky breath. He needed to pull the trigger. 

Before he inconvenienced anyone else.

'Do it.' He chanted to himself. This was it. He took in a deep breath, finger moving towards the trigger. His breath quickened. He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh god was this it? Is this all he had left?

He began to press down when the door clicked open. The calming breeze felt like ice against his sweaty skin.

The small male sat stock still looking at the door, but he only saw a blur pass in front of him. 

The gun lay forgotten next to the bed. Pete was shoved into a wall and held there by his neck.

"Are you insane?" The intruder's ragged voice rang out.

"Gary?" Pete whispered after getting over the shock. Gary wasn’t supposed to be there.

"What were you thinking, huh? Killing yourself! What's wrong with you?!" Gary practically screamed in Pete's face. Spit landed on his cheek and lip and he couldn’t help but recoil from the pure rage in front of him. Pete silently wished the ground below him would swallow him whole. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Gary's grip tightened on his neck, Pete couldn’t breathe. "Why would you try to do something like this moron!" Gary growled. The trembling boy tried to talk, but the words ran together in his mouth. Not one coherent sentence came out. If Pete didn’t kill himself, Gary’s iron grip would.  
"Not like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this..."He managed to whisper.

Pete was dragged from the wall, and thrown on the ground. Gary looked at the gun that lay next to Pete. His eyes were wild.  
Pete had never seen Gary with such a look of disbelief. He almost looked like a normal teenager with his jaw slack and eyes wide. He looked like a frightened animal.  
Gary grabbed the gun.

"Shit! God damn it, Pete!" Gary turned to the door he had left wide open and slammed it shut. Gary paced the floor nervously, his mind running a mile per minute. Pete didn't know what Gary was going to do with the gun or what he was upset about, but he was sure that he was dead either way. Gary stopped pacing and stared at him. Pete didn’t realize he was crying until a tear landed on his hand. 

Gary shook his head and stared at the gun again. He needed to get rid of it, and fast.

He ran over to his own bed, and dug through the trash piled under it. He pulled out an old backpack he had stuffed under his bed, and put the gun inside.

"I'll-” he cursed again,”I’ll be back." 

He left. 

With what little energy Pete had left, he crawled onto his bed and cried himself to sleep. What else could he have done? Follow Gary and ask for the gun back? Go out and find some other way to kill himself? He didn't have a plan, and he felt so broken.

He felt as though his mind had just shut off and his body was floating.He didn’t know he had fallen asleep, his mind too preoccupied with trying to breathe. But no dreams awaited him. 

When the moon reached its peak and the dorm was full and still, Pete's eyes snapped open as he heard something move behind him. He laid completely still too scared to see who it was and too tired to care. The bed dipped as someone leaned over him, their hand squeezing Pete’s shoulder so hard it would bruise.

"You don't get to choose when you quit. You stop when I tell you to. Got it?" Pete jumped at the voice. He gave no indication that he heard, but once the weight lifted he twisted his neck to see Gary climbing into his own bed. The backpack was nowhere to be found.

Now, the moon was just as high in the sky as it was that night. Pete sighed at the memory and closed his eyes. 

Gary was a good friend. 

Only if you could see past rage and lack of social skills. Pete sometimes thought that he was the only one who could see past all that, or that he was the only one who tried. He rubbed his eyes, and yawned. Maybe Gary would be home by the time he woke up. Yes, maybe that would happen. 

While sleep slowly took him, a voice in the back of his mind told him, 'You're lying to yourself.'

When Pete woke up the next morning, there was a gun pointed at his face.


	3. Ammunition

Pete grabbed the person’s wrist and twisted it, rolling off the mattress and into the intruder's legs. He heard them grunt as they crashed onto the floor. Pete squirmed out from under the heavy person, quickly climbing on top of them. He yanked the gun from their hand and was able to pin their wrists under his knees leaving him sitting on the person’s chest. Pete was panting, no one had ever gotten in since Lola. No one. Dark spots clouded his vision. 

Fuck he missed his inhaler.

“Woah, Petey. I didn’t know you topped.” The same old sly grin came across the intruder’s face, and Pete felt tears spring to his eyes. 

“Gary!” Pete clambered to get off of him. He wrapped his arms around Gary’s neck as soon as the older male stood up. Gary awkwardly patted his back, giving Pete enough time to catch his breath. When Pete looked up, Gary was no longer grinning. 

He slapped him. Hard. 

“Why didn’t you lock the door? Are you stupid?” Gary growled. Pete’s hand flew to touch the hand shaped mark beginning to form on his cheek. No, Pete had locked the doors. Hadn’t he? Pete tried to remember the lock up routine. Shut the window where Lola had died, then the one on the opposite side of the room. And the one in the kitchen. And then the do-...

Pete had forgotten the door! He smacked his forehead.

“Shit…” He cursed.. “I-I didn’t know, I forgot. But you.. You! You were gone, you were dead. You left me alone!” Pete shoved Gary’s chest making him stumble back a few feet. Pete, still feeling the adrenaline from the surprise attack and the anger from Gary hitting him, decided to hit back. Gary hissed as pain blossomed on the side of his head, and glared at Pete. Now they matched. 

The younger boy wasn’t backing down this time, not after Gary’s disappearing act. 

"I thought you were dead! Where have you been? I was so… So…” Pete looked around the abandoned house, too frustrated to finish his sentence. He shook his head and turned back to him.

“You owe me one hell of an explanation, Gary!” Pete poked his chest accusingly, and narrowed his eyes trying to seem fierce like Gary so often did. Gary knocked aside his finger, and held up the bag he had left with. His anger from earlier seemed to vanish. The bag was completely full.

“Where I have been shall all be explained, little Petey! Take a look at this.” Gary sat down at one end of the mattress, motioning for Pete to sit on the other side. Gary dangled the plastic bag in front of the smaller boy teasingly. Pete clicked his tongue in distaste at the theatrics but he was eager to see what Gary had brought.

Gary flipped the bag upside down and the contents rained out. 

Pete’s breath hitched. Twenty boxes of ammunition laid in front of him, more than Pete had ever seen, though he had very little experience with guns before the infection started. The gun he had used all that time ago had already been loaded. Gary was quick to grab what bullets fell from the boxes and quickly displayed them for his friend. 

For months they had been worrying over the thought of running out of supplies. They rarely had to use their guns, they were both quiet and fast that they went unnoticed, but the few times they had, proved that they were both terrible shots. They wasted more bullets then either would care to admit. 

That was just when it came to protecting themselves. They had tried to go hunting once, but it was a disaster. Not even Gary, who had the most experience out of both of them, could hit what little wildlife they found. They stuck to scavenging, but the town was destined to run dry any day now. If they wanted any chance at survival, they’d both have to practice their aim. 

“Oh my god.”

“Go on, express your gratitude for how amazing I am.” He was giving Pete a huge grin. Something the smaller boy hadn’t seen in a long time. Pete jumped up, whooping excitedly. He quickly drew Gary in for a hug before returning to tearing open the boxes of ammunition to finger the bullets. Gary shushed his excited friend, not eager to put the new equipment to use. 

“We have some to spare now, not much, but some. We’ll go far, into the woods past the tracks tomorrow.”

“We’ll take the trail behind the Old Vale. It should be clear enough.” Pete suggested. He couldn’t stop the grin at the thought of actually being able to protect themselves, being able to feed themselves. It didn’t ease his anxieties about their new world, but it was a comfort. Even though he knew Gary hated it, he slung an arm around his neck and brought him close. 

“Thank you,” Pete murmured against his neck. Gary could tell Pete was talking about more than just the ammunition. When Pete finally pulled away, he started to take inventory on their supplies. Without looking up he patted Gary’s arm. 

“Rest, and you can tell me what happened when you wake up.” 

Gary didn’t move, just stayed staring at Pete, as his nimble fingers traced over the metal casings. The way he mouthed the numbers as he kept a mental note of all they had. It was, well- Gary would never use the word cute, not when it came to Pete. But it was fascinating to see someone else’s mind racing for once. 

He slowly climbed onto their mattress, not feeling the least bit tired, a result of the lack of medicine and the wild night he had faced. Gary fought back a hiss as he pressed against the new wound on his side. He checked to make sure Pete was still counting before slowly lifting up his shirt to gently prod at the wrapping around his hip. He swore silently as he saw that blood was starting to spot the white gauze. Staying off of it was his best bet at not getting caught. He tucked his shirt in and shifted to his other side, throwing the old blanket over himself for good measure. Watching Pete was a lot more interesting than pretending to sleep anyways.


End file.
